


pull you out of here

by peachyteabuck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: asgard needs a queen, thor wishes to defy his father, and you seem to be the solution to both
Relationships: Thor (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	pull you out of here

To say that Thor was mad would be an understatement. To say Frigga cared would be a complete lie.

“He’s trying to get me to _marry_ , Mother,” he nearly screams. Nonetheless, the woman remains calm. “To cede some of my power to some _woman!”_

Frigga watches her son stomp around her chambers with a watchful eye, never moving from her seat across the room. She’s watched her son – her lovely, wonderful son – perform this long-winded act many times before; when Loki came into their lives, whenever Frigga had to force them to share. Thor, in classic eldest-sibling fashion, thoroughly disliked anyone impeding on what he thought to be his.

 _His_ toys, _his_ room, _his_ room, _his power_. All of it, everything he wished for, was his.

This included his throne, apparently, as is made obvious by his red-faced rambling.

“What, is he going to pluck some maiden from the streets of Asgard? Make her some puppet for during in _my_ rule?” he’s stomping now, nearly spitting.

He stays like that – acting the same way he did when Loki stole a single potato from his plate when he was old enough to walk and talk and feel but young enough to not have a single muscle on his lanky body.

Just like usual, he eventually tires himself out, using his last bit of energy to bark in the general direction of a servant to get him some ale. He sits in the chair across from his mother, elbow resting on his knees.

Thor’s voice is quieter now, much more pensive. “Mother, what am I going to _do?”_

Frigga waits for the servant to bring the large drink and for Thor to gulp half of it down before responding. “What you father wants is for you to have a bride – it’s important to the people you rule over. What your father wants –“

“Is for me to give my power to some _woman,”_ Thor scoffs into his drink. “I’m aware.”

Frigga rolls her eyes. “No, darling. What your father wants is to make sure the woman is to his tastes.”

Her son scoffs. “What does that mean?”

“It means, if you picked a woman from say,” the woman shrugs. “Midgard, then he wouldn’t be able to say no to her for fear of backlash from the Asgardians,” Thor smiles as she continues talking, now understanding. “They love their humans, you know.”

They laugh together, happy as their devised their plan: Thor would leave the next day for Midgard, spend some time there, woo some woman he knows will not impede too much into his duties as king.

So, when Thor saw you in that faded orange cardigan, the leggings that showed off your thick thighs, and a well-loved t-shirt that looked incredibly soft with your hair piled on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your feet and you yawning so adorably as you waited for your coffee to be finished, he knew he had to have you. Sure, maybe he was being shallow when he thought about being buried between your thick thighs or laying on your large breasts, and maybe he should’ve learned more about your personality before calling you his “dream girl.” But still, he knew you were the one and he needed to get you to fall in love with him ASAP.

There were a few problems with this mission:

First: he didn’t know your name, your job in the tower, or how to find you. He knew you as “the adorable one who likes coffee,” which doesn’t narrow it down, especially because they were in New York and more specifically Stark Tower, where everyone within city limits was running on two gallons of coffee, anxiety, and institutional access to research databases.

Second: after pestering every Avenger he could find, Thor found out that you had a boyfriend. A long-term one, too. About five years is what Steve begrudgingly told Thor after the God broke into his personal gym during his morning run on the treadmill (that day it was hailing, and Captain America will put up with a lot – but he _refuses_ to get hit in the face with golf-ball sizes sphere of ice). A few minutes later, Barton (who admitted very quickly to listening through the vents) told Thor that rumor had it he was going to propose pretty soon – had picked the ring and restaurant out but hadn’t booked the reservation.

Third: very soon after learning that you were taken, Thor also learned that he would likely be spending a lot of time with you since where you worked and his favorite place ended up being the exact same. Tony’s personal lab (where he often worked with Bruce), was pretty much where you lived. Your official job description was akin to “personal librarian,” which meant keeping the lab orderly so Tony could on inventing things (or whatever else it is he does). Once, about a day before Pepper decided to hire someone, Tony spent four hours sorting screws.

Four. Entire. Hours.

You, with your degree in IT and concentration in database creation and management, were perfect for the job. He was even allowing you to use his lab for research – making you a pioneer in a field you didn’t realize existed until LexisNexis contacted you asking to moonlight as a consultant during their company-wide restructuring.

Some (mostly those who interviewed for the job and didn’t get it) called you a glorified assistant, a nanny whose only job was to clean up toys. Still, Tony spoke highly of you during parties and interviews and whenever anyone complimented his lab.

Given your dedication to your work, a few months in Tony offered you an apartment a few floors down. It was newly renovated, and since most Stark employees lived in Stark Industries-subsidized housing not located within HQ, you lived mostly secluded from everyone else.

To you, it was amazing. You never had to see anyone you didn’t intend to and you never had to brave the famously-bad New York winter weather just to go to bed. In all honesty, it was your dream life.

Thor, though, had to disagree. It made it impossible to “bump into you,” he never saw you when you weren’t working (you made it very clear you preferred to either a) work in silence or b) listen to music or an audiobook _you_ picked). Even if he managed to catch a glimpse of you on your lunch break, you always seemed to be more interested in something else – a book, a conversation, whatever. Never, ever, did he seem to be able to catch you off guard.

About a week in, he realized this would be much harder than he originally thought.

Over the course of six months, Thor learned a few things:

First: you really like to read. He ends up asking Natasha (arguably the person you’re closest with) about every book you like in an attempt to have something to talk about.

Second (before he wanted to talk to you about the Poisonwood Bible but after he finally got Natasha to crack): You really don’t like your boyfriend, and your boyfriend doesn’t really seem to like you. When he asks why you two are still dating, Natasha just shrugs sadly.

“That’s a story for her to tell, not me, Odinson,” she said.

Third (the next morning, he sniffed around the kitchen to find anyone who would tell him anything about you): You were incredibly insecure about your body. He learned that from Steve. He learned from Sam that this was why you stayed with your emotionally distant romantic partner; because you thought you couldn’t find anyone better.

This, of course, was a lot of information to handle at once. So Thor did what a bunch of bubbly college students on YouTube called “mind-maps” so he could sort out his thoughts. What started as a fresh, clean, white sheet of graph paper ended up being a masterplan to win you over.

**_Step 1: Have a solid conversation with you_ **

This happens much faster than expected. The next morning, to be exact. It’s sort of warming up, so you’re wearing a thin pullover and a pair of tight, light grey jeans. The pullover has some Midgardian logo on it, one Thor doesn’t recognize. When you turn around as you wait for the coffee machine, he asks you about it.

“What’s on your…” he gestures to said logo.

You smile bashfully, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “It’s, uh, it’s just some concept art for a book I like. ”

Thor beams. He knows he’s got you. “What book?”

You shrug, grabbing the pot and pouring the steaming liquid into your peach pink travel mug. “It’s called Nothing, it’s by Janne Teller…

From there, you and him talk about what’s possibly the darkest book of all time. You explain to him the plot, the emotion it evokes from you. It truly is your favorite piece of literature; you really could talk about it for hours.

So, you do. Over your morning coffee, then a larger-than-usual breakfast, and then lunch. You make grilled cheese and tomato soup, biting every few sentences.

“God, my favorite line, like of the entire book is like,” you take a bite, chewing as you speak. “So Pierre is talking to these kids, and this one kid is Muslim, and gave up the prayer mat, or rather was made to give up his prayer mat. And Pierre is like ‘what price was your faith?’ And that line has like, continued to haunt me. It’s just,” you swallow. “What price do we pay to prove ourselves to others, you know?”

Thor listens intently as you speak, nodding and smiling as you go on. It’s amazing how much someone lights up when they talk about something they’re passionate about. It’s probably mid-afternoon when you finally realize that you’ve been talking for literal hours.

“Oh my god,” you gush, collecting the dishes and placing them in the sink. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been-”

Thor grabs your wrist, bunching at the sleeve. “No, please do not apologize. I have been meaning to talk to you for a long time.”

You blush, not meeting his eyes. “Why would someone like you want to talk to someone like me…”

That’s sort of when Thor’s suave facade cracks a little. You’re everything he’s ever wanted in a partner. Literally ever. And your inability to see that troubles him deeply.

“My dear, you’re so smart and quick and eloquent,” he tells you, never break eye contact. “Don’t even think I don’t want to be around you.”

You blush, not responding while scuttering off and mumbling something about having to go to a meeting for Stark.

**_Step 2: Get you to spend what Natasha and Wanda call “quality time” with him._ **

This one happens a little while later. Tony, in an effort to reward you, gave you some time off. The problem is that you hate taking off work, you always have. It’s impossible for you to feel good when you’re not being productive, and the idea of laying around for three days is unimaginable to you.

“Listen, you need some sun, you’ve been cooped up in here for weeks,” Tony tried to plead with you as he hanged upside down from the ceiling.

“C’mon, I’m not a house plant! What am I going to do anyway?” you cry out from your spot on the floor.

Just then, Natasha happened to walk through the door with a paperwork mishap. If there was a lightbulb above her head, it would’ve burned bright enough to blind them. Without doing anything that even resembles what she originally walked into the lab to do, Natasha bolts out at the speed of lightning.

“THOR!” she screams when she enters his apartment. “THOR, I HAVE SOME VERY GOOD NEWS!”

Promptly, he comes out in just a towel, glowing like some candle in a dark room. “Yes, Natasha?”

She takes a minute to wolf whistle before she beings. “The darling girl you’ve had your eye on has a few days off coming up…you should take her somewhere! Do something!”

Thor’s silent. He sort of didn’t think this would ever happen…now that he has the opportunity he’s a little floored. It’s like when you’ve been doodling hearts with your crush’s name in them and then they actually talk to you. “Oh…oh Gods…what do I do? How should I ask her…”

Natasha’s a little giddy with excitement at the prospect of Thor taking you out. You’ve been so good to them in so many different ways…she wants someone to do something nice to you for once. If that meant setting you up with the super-hot God of Thunder (and Fertility…wink wink), then so be it.

“Oh goodness, you can do anything!” she mentally runs through all of the endless possibilities. “She’ll want something quiet, quaint…coffee shop? No, that’s too boring. Some fair thing? No, that’s too crazy, loud. Maybe you could…oh my God that’s perfect!”

Thor, still in a towel but now dry, looks confused. Appreciative, but confused. “What, Natasha…what is it?”

Her grin stretches from ear to ear, teeth flashing and eyes bright. “You should help her organize the bookshelf in her room, she’s been talking about it for ages and she’s always talks about she’s never had the time or the energy and-”

“You think the best way for me to get to know the future mother of my children is to help her organize her…shelf of books?” Thor is now dressed. Natasha doesn’t question it.

“Uh…hells yeah! Listen, dude. If you really want to get to know her you need to get her in a situation, she’s comfortable with,” Natasha sees she has a text indicating she’s needed for some logistical work for the next mission and turns to leave. Right before the elevator, though, she turns to face Thor again. “But don’t mention the ‘mother of children thing’…it’s weird.”

Thor takes note as he prepares to ask you about the…date? Is it a date? That he’s planning on taking you on. Luckily, he doesn’t have to try too hard, because Wanda and Steve less than five minutes later to help him.

“Oh Thor-egous Odinson!” Wanda sing-songs as she enters into his living room. She practically bouncing off of the walls as she goes to sit down next to Thor on the large, plush couch.

“Hey Thor,” Steve mumbles quietly. He chooses a chair across from both of them, obviously _extremely_ uncomfortable with the situation. He’s one of the few people who knows you really well, though, so the need for qualified individuals overpowers his personal feelings about manipulating you into going on a date with the God (Natasha refused to use that word when Steve brought it up, though. “I’m just encouraging her, Steven, calm down,” she tried to explain to him on the elevator up. “Don’t call me that,” is all Steve replied).

“So,” Wanda chirps. “Nat told us you wanted to help our favorite little book worm organize her bookshelves on her sequence of days off?”

Thor gives a small noise of affirmation, knowing very well that Wanda and Natasha understand you the best. If he had any choice of making his plan work, they would have to be a part of it – whether they knew it or not.

They spent hours talking about you – both of them providing deep analysis of your likes, dislikes, preferences. The things you love, hate.

It ended with lists sprawled on scraps of paper, things they told Thor he had to memorize if had “a sliver of hope” of having you like him.

With pockets stuffed full of these promises, he walked away with a small smirk and much better idea of how execute his plan, as has all led him into the next step:

**_Step 3: Make you like him much more than your current paramour._ **

This part appears to be the easiest, given your boyfriend is an aggressively mediocre man-child. You’ve got a picture of you and him on one of the bookshelf cubicles _not_ overcome by thick books, next to a few small figurines of miscellaneous origin.

Thor asks about them as you both work to clear the bookshelf, throwing everything on the floor to be sorted later. Each one makes smile brightly for a few moments before sadness overtakes your eyes. One of them – a small fawn curled into a sleeping position on a small, circular bed of grass – seems to bring a special wave of melancholy to your face.

“Yeah, that was from when we met, a, uh, a study abroad program to a Canadian university. He and I had a mutual friend who made miniatures for fun – still does, actually – and we met through her. He bought me that for our first anniversary.”

Thor does his best to hide his wicked smile, but nevertheless is appreciative of your downcast eyes. “It sounds like he really loves you.”

You don’t disagree, just sigh. “So, can you help me sort these books by color type?”

Thor smiles wide as he can. “Of course.”

As he separates the books into four piles (warms, cools, white, and black), he goes over the state of his plan:

**_Step 4: Have you break up with your current paramour._ **

_This step seems to be a significantly harder step, given your stubbornness surrounding being with him. It’s not as if Thor can grab you by the shoulders and say “he doesn’t love you! He’ll never love you! Just stop being in a relationship with him!”_

_He totally can’t do that, right? Right?_

_(After a few communiques with his mother they both decide, no, he can in fact not do that.)_

_So he settles for driving a wedge between the two of you that even he can fit in. Somehow, that seems just as good._

**_Step 5: Have you join him in Asgard._ **

_This, too, feels much harder than sowing dislike between you and your…previous courtesan._

_You’re smart, interesting, something Thor has yet to see in many possible wives. The problem is, your intelligence and fascinating nature are tied to your highly demanding job that you are, unfortunately, very attached to. Attempting to keep you for anything longer than your contractually obligated lunch break is tough enough, how could he convince you leave your job? Your home?_

The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves – now organized by color – stare down at Thor almost mockingly. He wonders, as he hears the teapot screeching and two mugs being placed onto the counter, if his plan worked. You’re naïve, sure, but too naïve for him to mold? He’s been manipulating people since he was a golden child – him misreading you would be a blow to his ego, his very _being_.

But he cannot give up. Not when he’s only two steps into his plan.

As such, Thor spends the next few weeks following you around – doing everything he possible could to make your life easier. A mug too high? He would grab it before you could sigh about what shelf it was on. Dirty dishes? He’d fill the dishwasher, do the handwashing, and put all the clean dishes away after drying them. He did laundry and put it all away in its exact place.

Natasha made a comment Thor didn’t understand about 1960’s housewives, to which the god said nothing in return. He’d join you multiple times a week to do whatever you wanted – sometimes you’d watch a movie together, other times he’d help you shop online. Sometimes he’d help you cook food for the week, once he listened to you talk about new academic research you were interested in.

One special week he even held you as you cried about the man who was supposed to be the love of your life. That week, he wiped your tears and held you as you feel asleep, nuzzling into one of the many large hoodies he had acquired on his time on Midgard. That week, he thought he had cracked it – thought he had finally figured out how to get what wants.

Unfortunately for him, the truth was not kind to his endeavors. Not even a full day had passed before you were gushing over the man once more, sparkles in your eyes and hands clutching the latest “cute” thing he had texted you.

It was sickening, really, how easily you allowed yourself to be manipulated by him. Still, it gave Thor an ounce of hope. It this imbecile could get you crawling back to him, surely a _god_ could do it too.

So he kept with the constant visits, with the bringing you lunch and coffee and eating take out on the floor of your bedroom and watching bad movies with you. It was menial, but it was working.

You began to trust him, began to get used to his presence.

For this reason (and maybe a few more you didn’t want to talk about), the knock on your door at dusk on a Wednesday was not exactly unexpected. For this reason, you answered the door in a loose crop top and soft, worn pajama shorts and ankle socks with smiling avocados on them.

You opened the door to him, excited to show him the duvet he had helped you pick out. It looked so much better in person, and you thought he’d like it.

He followed you, of course he did, into your bedroom. You were expecting that.

What you weren’t expecting was him to slam you into one of the few spots on the wall devoid of posters, trinkets, other miscellaneous crap that made the place feel a little more like a home.

You couldn’t see much over his broad shoulders, but somehow the top shelf of the very bookcase he had help you organize all that time ago.

Each title seemed to mock you as he began to speak.

“You’ve been holding out on me, little lamb,” he said with a sneer.

You tried to push at his muscular chest to no avail. “Thor, I don’t know what you’re t-“

He pushes you against the wall once more, ignoring your cries in pain. “ _Shut the fuck up_ , you know exactly what I mean.”

He rips the crop top off – revealing your simple black bralette. He moans as his large hands palm at your breasts, and you have to fight one yourself, too. It’s been so long since you’d had sex, let alone gone to first base; your lover (the one you had been with for over five years) hadn’t touched you like that since you’d decided to move into Stark Tower and your less-than-extensive sex toy collection had satisfied you in the very least.

Still, this was wrong. Very, _very_ wrong.

“C’mon,” he growls, moving his hands south. “You know you want to…”

“I-” You try to push him away, only being able to think of how you were going to explain this to a man you thought one day you’d marry. _You have to tell him, right? You have to tell him about what Thor tried. That’s the basis of good relationships, communication._ “No, I don’t, Thor _please-“_

That’s when the last bit of him cracks, the soft edges to his voice sharpening and his jaw squaring.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he growls, ripping the shorts off next. “Do you understand all the _shit_ I’ve put up with for you? All while your shithead boyfriend barely sent you a fucking text once a week to see if you were alright.”

“Thor, I-“

“ _No_ ,” he shouts, making you flinch away from him. “Don’t excuse him! Don’t try and tell me he loves you like I do!”

That makes your eyes widen in fear, makes your hands shake where they’re pined at your side.

Thor softens everywhere except in his grip, keeping you pressed against him. “Oh, darling you don’t have to worry. I’m never gonna hurt you…”

A smile spreads across his face, then, leaning close to your ear. “Unless you want me to.”

He palms your clothed pussy, slipping two fingers inside of your dripping heat. It’s a delicious feeling and you fight back a moan, terrified to give him the satisfaction.

“C’mon darling,” Thor coos. “Let me hear you.”

He removes his fingers, then, smiling when you whine before stuffing his thick cock inside of you. It fits easily, given how wet you are, and for a moment – just a moment – you lose yourself to the pleasure.

“O- _Oh_ ,” you moan. “Oh, that feels so good.”

It all breaks down when Thor speaks once more, though. words flowing between him biting at your hot skin.

“That’s right, love,” his hands roam your body with fervor. “Let me make you feel good.”

It’s then that your mouth goes dry and a sense of dread washes over you.

“I-,” you try to find your verbal footing, wanting to find a path away from him. “I shouldn’t be doing this, I-“

You freeze when Thor uses one of his large hands to wrap around your throat, pinning you between him and the wall.

“Are you fucking serious?” he growls. “You’re really thinking about _him_ right now?”

He nearly spits when he mentions your boyfriend, skin hot from fury.

“Think of all the things I’ve done for you!” he hisses into your ear. “How much easier I made your life. What has your boyfriend done for you?”

You don’t respond. In turn, he only fucks into you harder.

“That’s right. I know how little he loves you, and how little you love _him,_ ” you scream as he flips you around, using one hand to pins both your arms behind your back with your cheek pressed to the cool wall. “And yet you stay with him, why?”

You say nothing in return, though it’s not like you could. Each word dies in your throat when Thor thrusts into you once again. All that’s able to escape are choked sobs, broken pleas that sound more animal than human. Part of you wonders if Thor can hear you, another part wonders, if he could, would he care? If he truly understands what he’s doing, does it matter whether or not you want to push him away and cut away the skin he’s touched?

You can’t tell which is worse – dangerous naivety in combination with his strength, or determination blended with disregard.

Fiery tears burn as they stream down the already heated skin of your cheeks, but even that isn’t enough to distract from the feeling of Thor’s large hands all over you.

“C’mon little lamb,” he growls, voice sending bolts of electricity through you. “Cum for me.”

He swipes at your clit in smooth, tight circles, golden hot pleasure flooding your veins.

You reach your peak with a deep, chesty moan, nails digging into the skin of his back as you bucked your hips near violently.

“F- _fuck_ ,” Thor growls, continuing to thrust into you. “You feel so good around my cock, little lamb. You’ll have to excuse me, you’re going to make me cum much sooner than I would on an average night.”

Your eyes widen in fear, ready to plead for him to pull out.

Thor just lets out a small laugh, nipping at your skin. “Don’t worry, lamb, I won’t fill you with my seed.”

You let out a sigh of relief, but it doesn’t last for long.

“The last thing either of us need is for you to be bearing the mark of my child away from our people.”

You barely have time to react before Thor tucks his face into your neck as he finishes himself off, thick white ropes of cum painting your lower half.

You think it’s over, but of course it isn’t – that would be _too fucking easy_. He moves two of his rough fingers – still smelling distinctly of your sex – through his masterpiece before shoving them deep into your mouth, smiling. At first you gag, but as your blood begs for oxygen you accept your fate and clean the salty substance with your tongue.

“There you go,” he coos, beaming as he gazes down at you. “Such a good little lamb…I wonder if you can clean my cock like that?”

You can’t tell which you flinch harder at, the nickname or the thought of him sticking his dick past your lips and down your throat.

“Oh, don’t try to act like you don’t like it,” Thor says between light kisses he peppers across your neck. “Don’t you just love the idea of servicing me forever?”

You can feel him getting hard again against your thigh and you whimper, desperate to get away.

“ _Fuck_ don’t make that noise, little lamb, makes me want you more,” Thor groans. “Just imagine it – you and me on Asgard. I can rule and you can be my pretty little pet.”

Your eyes widen in fear, brain now fully comprehending what, exactly, Thor wants from you.

“Thor, _please_ ,” you beg. “Please, let’s be rational. I mean, Stark needs me! Right? You know how much Tony needs me!”

Thor just laughs, burrowing his nose into the nap of your neck. “Oh, my little lamb. We’ll figure it out – maybe you can train someone else to do your job. Or Tony can finally figure out how to be a man and figure that shit out himself,” he pulls back to kiss at your temple, whispering into your sweaty hair. “To be honest, I really don’t care. He’ll lose you soon enough, and how he handles that is neither of our problems.”

It’s then that you understand, that you really understood what was happening with Thor, what he wants from you.

In that moment, you understood that if your world was crashing down, and Thor would be there to pick up the pieces – whether you wanted to or not.


End file.
